


Abandon All Hope (Ye Who Enter Here)

by TheBlackLagoon



Category: As Above So Below (2014), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, As Above So Below au, Bi Richie, F/M, Gay Eddie, Hell on Earth, M/M, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy, No one dies AU, despite the title it's a happy ending, past spousal abuse mention, physical interpretations of inner demons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackLagoon/pseuds/TheBlackLagoon
Summary: After returning to Derry due to the death of his Mother, Edward Kasprak finds evidence of his father's decades long search for the legendary philosophers stone. In an effort to finish his father's quest, Eddie spends the next two years trying to uncover the secrets of Nicholas Flamel and his ancestors, and why they chose Derry of all places to hide the precious stone.There is something wicked under Derry Maine, a culmination of the town's worst fears and regrets, but is it enough to keep Eddie from his goal?
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	Abandon All Hope (Ye Who Enter Here)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sapphicdaydreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphicdaydreams/gifts).



> So, this was mostly a complete accident. I watched As Above, So Below at the behest of my good friend Sonoma (@Sapphicdaydreams) and then this happened. I swear I was not in control for any of this, but I had a great time with it anyway. I hope you guys enjoy!

_"They yearn for what they fear for.” - Dante Alighieri, Inferno pg. 123 Canto-iii_

<REPLY> Sent on Fri, May 20th, 2016 at 6:45 p.m

From: [ smarlow@science-po.fr ](mailto:smarlow@science-po.fr)

To: [ ejkaspr@icloud.com ](mailto:ejkaspr@icloud.com)

Subject: “Rose Key Journals”

Dear Mr. Kaspbrak,

After your first email, I wasn’t sure if what I was reading could possibly be true- and then you sent me the copies of the journals your father uncovered and I simply couldn’t believe my eyes. I was able to authenticate them almost immediately, and your father was right, they are undoubtedly proof that link Flamel’s ancestors to Maine. Attached to this email are the full translations you asked for, but Mr. Kaspbrak, I would hate for our communications to end here.

What your father discovered could alter all we know of Nicholas Flamel. If there was anything more to his research that he presented you with, please contact me again.

I hope this reaches you in a timely enough fashion,

Sincerely,

Scarlett Marlowe; Professor of Archeology, Science Po.

** attachment.(pdf)  **

**~~~**

Living in Derry Maine is like walking a tightrope. Most residents have balancing poles, and nets under their feet, support systems, and willful ignorance of the dangers posed to them. And then others, the unlucky outsiders of any small town, are thrown out with nothing but their own imperfect balance and no net to catch them if they fall. 

There is an evil lurking under Derry’s tightrope, and those who’s balancing act is over, well- they discover quickly they should have grabbed onto the rope.

In Eddie Kaspbrak's case, that tightrope was thin, bitten and chewed to its last strings, ready to snap at the first weight upon it. Eddie had only lived in Derry as a child, had moved away in first grade, leaving exactly one friend behind, and a sluice of upsetting memories. He never thought he'd be back, had hoped he'd never have to. Because even at age six, Eddie had known. Boys like him didn't survive in towns like Derry.

And then thirty-two years had passed, and somehow- _something_ had dragged him right back.

His mother had died, and there had been so much to sort through, so many things to settle. He’d given himself a week to finish it all up, a week and then he’d be back in New York, _permanently_. 

Two years after that and he was still here. With a job in retail no less.

Thrift It was an old shop- new to Eddie when he'd come back to Derry. The owner, Mr. Cavil was a lonely widower and needed help keeping the shop in order. When Eddie had come looking for a job, he'd gotten it without an interview

Eddie liked the shop, he liked Cavil, and his oldies tunes, and the small but frequent clientele. The only thing he couldn’t stand most times was the smell. It came with the territory of a thrift store, the must of used things. There were times where he was sure he’d choke on all the dust gathering in the antiques section, if not for the inhaler tucked safely into his jacket pockets. But Thrift It was just a job- it wasn’t the thing tying Eddie to Derry anyway. That reason came in the form of an email.

He’s hunched over the donation box, sorting the good from the unsellable when he gets the notification on his phone. He spends the next five minutes trying to process what it means.

“ _Kaspbrak?_ ”

“Huh,” Eddie looks up from his phone's email, one arm still buried deep within the donation box. Mr. Cavil is standing in the bargain section looking exasperated.

“You good to lock up tonight kid?” 

“Uh yeah, _yeah_. Sorry Harry,” Eddie says, feeling a flush on his cheeks as he shoves his phone back into his jeans pocket. Harry watches with a raised eyebrow, but he doesn’t mention the phone, just turns around with a shake of his head and trudges back to the store counter to grab his heavy canvas jacket and car keys.

Eddie watches as the other man exits the shop with a little wave. Slowly he moves around the donation bin to the front door to turn the open sign to closed. It's raining outside, a slow drizzle he'd just missed this morning. It explains the headache he's been fighting all afternoon at least. He closes in a haze, with one thought stuck at the front of his mind. He finishes putting away the sorted donation items, does the cursory sweep of the floors, clears the front counter of any leftover items. Someone passes by the store, their darkened hood pulled up, they only stop briefly, but Eddie still watches as they disappear around the street corner. Eddie doesn't have to close the store often, but he never relishes being alone inside.

It's half past 7 by the time he's finished, and Eddie rubs at his temple wearily. The rain is just now coming down harder, and he’d left his umbrella at home. Eddie checks out the store door, and to his relief, he sees the warm glowing neon sign of Star Light Video. With one last glance around him at the darkened body of Thrift It, Eddie pulls his fleece jacket around himself just a little tighter and exits out into the rain. 

The street is empty as he sprints across, and despite his quick departure, he's decently wet by the time he makes it to the canopy over the door of the Star Light. It's a warm rain at least, and Eddie shakes out his hair as he enters the cozy little video store. The shop is empty like it usually is around this time of day, so close to closing. There’s something soft and crooning playing over the store speakers, and as he walks through the first few rows of videos he hums the tune under his breath.

The lights overhead are warmly lit, a wonderful change from the harsh white light in Thrift It. Eddie passes by the rom-coms thoughtfully. There’s nothing new to him here but there's something pleasant about walking the aisles alone.

“Sorry we close at 8 _Sir_ ,” Eddie startles at the voice behind him, but as soon as he turns around his face deadpans. Richie Tozier looks back at him with an easy grin and a stack of VHS tapes and DVDs stacked in his arms.

 _“Jesus,_ give me a heart attack why don’t you,” Eddie says breathlessly, moving only slightly out of the way as Richie begins shelving the movies. He’s still got that absent minded looking grin on his face, that Eddie can’t help but stare at.

“Oh please, you need more shock factor in your life dude, I’m doing you a favor. What are you doing here anyway, Cavil kick you out?” Richie questions, shoving a copy of My Big Fat Greek Wedding into the shelf beside Eddie’s head. 

“No, we closed early tonight, Harry’s grandkids are in town for the weekend- I was just stopping by to get out of the rain,” Eddie says motioning his head towards the door where the rain is coming down even harder now.

“Aw, and here I was thinking you came to see me,” Richie says with a sigh, one video in his teetering pile begins to slide and Eddie grabs it before it can fall.

“Well- I got an email back from that professor in Paris- Marlowe,” Eddie mutters, looking down at a scuffed VHS tape of Ghost, but looks up to see Richie staring at him in shock. 

“Shit- really? What’d she say? She wasn’t an asshole like that Yale guy right?” Richie asks as he grabs the VHS back out of his hands, and places it into its correct space.

“No actually uh- she sent a reply with her translations and everything,” Eddie says following Richie back to the counter as he checks the till. Richie nods his head excitedly as he counts out that day's meager total.

“And- did she find anything useful?” Richie prods, as he slides the money back into the cash register. 

“I haven't really looked it over yet but- Richie, she confirmed my dad's suspicions,” Eddie says seriously, leaning over the counter heavily to see Richie snag two boxes of Swedish Fish from the glass display.

“You mean the whole Flamel theory?” Richie asks, handing Eddie the second box of candy, as he locks the display case back up.

“The Flamel theory- and if that’s right, then- then everything he was working towards could be right,” Eddie says running his finger along the cardboard opening of the Swedish Fish box, ripping it open and dumping three of the gummies into his palm.

“Shit that’s- big man,” Richie says seriously, pushing his glasses up his nose as he rounds the counter.

“Yeah I- I’m still not sure I totally believe it,” Eddie says quietly, and Richie watches him for a moment as he digs into his own candy box.

“You talked to Mike about it yet?”

“No- you’re uh, the first person I’ve told. I’ll probably leave off until I’ve got something more substantial anyway. Listen do you need any help locking up-? I didn’t mean to get in your way,” Eddie says backing out of the way as Richie leans past and snags his jacket and keys from behind the counter. Richie wags his head back and forth, dark, messy curls falling into his eyes.

“As if you could ever get in my way Spaghetti, you’re too small for that.”

“God, Jesus, just because you're freakishly tall doesn’t make _me_ short,” Eddie says mock offended but lets a disbelieving smile slip onto his face as Richie passes him to grab his stuff from the break room. 

“Keep telling yourself that Eds- You know I’ve got an extra umbrella in the back, the rain’s not gonna stop for at least another two hours,” Richie says as he rounds the corner into the next room, out of sight in the next second. 

“That would be great thanks,” Eddie calls back, popping a Swedish fish into his mouth.

“No problem!” Richie shouts, and Eddie nods absently in return, drumming his fingers along the counter, hearing the shuffling of Richie’s movements. And then he’s saying something else from the back.

“You doing anything tonight?” 

“ _What?_ ” Eddie nearly dumps his Swedish Fish on the floor, and he carefully rights the box in his hand before turning round to the door of the break room.

“ _Are you doing anything tonight?_ ” Richie asks again as he exits, shrugging on his fleece-lined jean jacket, two umbrellas tucked under his arm. Eddie stops, tries not to notice the way Richie’s biting his lip and breaths.

“Uh- I was planning on heading to Mike and Bill’s for dinner- but it was kind of unofficial anyway,” Eddie mutters, turning away from Richie and digging his hand back into his Swedish Fish box. There’s quiet for a moment on Richie’s end, just the slight jingle of keys as he finds the right one to lock up.

“Snagging yourself a home cooked meal, huh? Have you even touched that cookbook I got you for Valentine’s Day?” Richie’s voice comes out light, even, and not at all forced. Eddie can feel the disappointment like a weight on his shoulders.

“ _Yes_ ,” Eddie defends. He had- _once_ , three months ago. He still couldn't remove the smoke damage from his ceiling. Richie pushes open the door for him to walk out first, grabbing the proffered umbrella. He opens it and steps out, a breeze flinging some rain into his face anyway. 

“ _Alright,_ well I hope you have fun crashing date night,” Richie says loftily, dragging Eddie out of his own thoughts. 

“Uh, what- what are _you_ doing this evening?” There’s a pause as Richie opens his own umbrella, and Eddie watches him shifting uncomfortably in the damp.

“Nothing exciting Eddie,” Richie says with a shrug, only one corner of his mouth quirking up. Just a half smile. Eddie watches as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, obscuring his eyes as he does so.

“Well I’ll uh- see you tomorrow then. We’re still on for coffee right? I might have more to share about Marlowe and- and everything,” Eddie stumbles out, feeling somehow, incredibly stupid. 

“Yeah of course, man. I’ll uh, see you then _,_ ” and then Richie waves goodbye and Eddie doesn’t move from his spot on the sidewalk till the streetlights start turning on around him. It’s dark by the time he makes it to Bill and Mike’s with his unfinished box of Swedish Fish.

**~~~**

<REPLY> Sent on Fri, May 20th, 2016 at 6:45 p.m

From: [ smarlow@science-po.fr ](mailto:smarlow@science-po.fr)

To: [ ejkaspr@icloud.com ](mailto:ejkaspr@icloud.com)

Subject: “Rose Key Journals”

 **attachment.(pdf)** <OPENED>

_Requested translated passages for the Journal’s of Rosette Flamel 1-3. Journal 4 translations pending._

**Journal 1: page 27 translation**

“ _April 15th Entry, 1705_ , 

_The journey has been long, longer than Julien told us it would be. I can not say yet if it was worth leaving behind Paris. My cousin Louise lost her child on the voyage and has been unwell ever since. There are times now where I worry for my own Henri, we have arrived just as the winter left this new land, and I can only pray for Julien and the men that they can finish their task before it is back. (_ **obscured passage** _) It has been promised to us a place will be found before three fortnights, but as I watch the churning of these unfamiliar shores, I am unsure we will ever be able to leave. The farther inland we travel the more this feeling of unease grows.”_

**Journal 1: pg. 45 translation**

“ _May 30th Entry, 1705,_

 _The fort has been finished at last, and I can feel the collective sigh of relief as we are at once safer within it’s completed walls. Julien’s initial hope of leaving so soon has been dashed, it seems the safe place he seeks is a more arduous task than he had first discerned. The spring here is captivating and the flowers that are blooming are enough of a distraction for the children to not take notice of the tense atmosphere. The men leave in the night with their lanterns and guns, we do not see them again till the morning light._ ”

 **Jornal 2: pg. 1 translation**

“ _July 17th Entry, 1705,_

 _The men have been gone for days now, and the walls with which we hide feel more and more unsafe. There are things in the woods which we can not comprehend, and at times it feels as if they are just beneath our feet. Henri has stopped speaking, and it is a wonder I rise from bed in the morning. I pray day and night for the return of our ship, for a miracle to save us from this waking Purgatory. God Be With Us, God Be With Thee._ ”

 **Journal 2: pg.(s) 12-13 translation**

( **Date obscured** ) “‘ _Winged vulture leads the way with brightest light in darkest day. Underneath the heaven’s reign, what is lost shall be regained. Halfway twixt the darkest gate and the land on which we tie our fate.”” This is all Julien has left for me, within his diary. It is the only clue I have to his final destination, but they are words that mean nothing to me. All I can assume is that he has completed his great-grandfather's work. But at what a cost to us all? Louise did not make it but a week after her Claudias disappeared with the rest of the men. We did all we could for her, but the heat and her fever were an unfortunate match. We buried her in the rain, there is so much of it these days. In my dreams her grave heaves with ghostly breaths, there is a fear in me that draws me there at night, an urge that has me on my knees grasping at the turned earth to get her out. But these are just dreams, and she stays dead at the top of the hill._ ”

 **Journal 3: pg. 50 translation** (last of the document)

( **Date not written** )

 _“The summer and autumn have left us too soon. Our supplies have dwindled to their last, and there is nothing but tack and bracken water to sustain us. There are times when I wonder Julien if I should let Henri suffer so long. I wonder if I should let myself suffer this way if maybe Louise was the luckiest of us all. I began to pray on my hands and knees for repentance, and Julien the ground spoke back to me, and it tells me of your journey below. It tells me Rue Perenelle is the key_. ( **Writing becomes indecipherable** )

**~~~**

The rain of Friday still hasn't abated by Sunday afternoon, and as Eddie slams the door to his truck, he steps into a good two feet of water. It soaks his pants nearly up to his knees, and with a curse he hops off the road and onto the curb, shaking out his dripping shoes. He pulls his hood around his head a little tighter and then races through the drowned front yard of Mike and Bill's place.

It's a quaint little house, not too far out of town. Two stories and painted white with pale blue shutters. It's the kind of house Eddie wished he'd grown up in. 

He nearly slips on the rain slicked grass but makes it to the porch unscathed, water dripping off his face as if he'd just come out of a high-pressure shower. The wind picks up at his back, and in an effort to end the thorough soaking he's receiving, Eddie bangs on the front door. He lets out a sigh of relief when it's Mike who answers.

"Eddie, Hey! I thought you weren't coming over till later,” Mike says, smiling as soon as his eyes land on Eddie. He quickly ushers Eddie in, closing the door against the wind and rain. In an effort to keep the rest of the house clean, Eddie slips out of his soaked shoes, and socks, and shoves them next to the door. There's not much he can do for his pants though.

"Sorry for intruding Mike, I hope you don't mind- Is Bill home?" Eddie asks nervously, handing over his coat when Mike motions for it.

"No- he's using his day off to get some writing done down at the library, why?" Mike asks, opening the coat closet and turning away from Eddie. Eddie swallows self consciously, pushing back his dripping hair from his face.

"I got an email back from Scarlett Marlowe," Mike nearly drops the coat he's carefully hanging up, and he turns to Eddie with wide eyes. 

"When?" He breaths out, shutting the closet door behind himself with a quiet click, as Eddie rubs at his damp arms to get some heat back in them.

"Friday night."

"Before or after we had dinner?"

"It was before Mike but- I just wanted to make absolutely sure, but she came through. Journals one through three translated. Apparently she was having some difficulty deciphering journal four, but _the first three_ , they prove all of our theories right Mike," Eddie says, moving to pull his phone out of his back pocket, pulling up the pdf Marlowe had sent him.

There’s a pause as Mike scans the phone's tiny screen, and then slowly he hands it back to Eddie.

"I'm- going to make us some coffee," Mike says with a nod, moving away from the closet door to head into the kitchen.

Eddie follows closely behind, unsure of how to proceed. Mike doesn't turn back to look at him as he searches through the shelves for Bill's expensive coffee, and two large mugs. 

"So- what do you think?" Eddie asks nervously, as Mike finally closes the top of the coffee maker. Mike is quiet for a moment, fingers tapping out a rhythmless beat on the faux marble countertop.

"Mike?"

"Sorry I'm just- after all this time I kind of thought I was going crazy trying to find something in those journals," Mike says with a shake of his head, a wisp of a smile across his lips. Eddie lets out a faint laugh, running a hand down his still wet face.

"Welcome to the club," Eddie says sardonically, and Mike's smile grows stronger as the coffee maker behind him hisses slightly as the coffee begins to pour.

"Have you had a chance to look over all of it?" Mike asks, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms.

"Just the first few passages- I thought we should read the rest together," Eddie says sitting down at the kitchen island with a hopeful smile, and Mike rolls his eyes.

"Just as long as we can print them out, I'm not sitting hunched over your phone screen for four hours," Mike says, pulling the coffee pot out and pouring two large portions for the both of them.

"It might take us longer than four hours," Eddie says with a sigh.

It takes them six hours, in the end, to get through each journal, thoroughly cross checking the dates, and the locations mentioned by Rosette. They’ve settled in the dining room, dozens of printed pages spread across the long mahogany table. 

Eddie had known even before he'd sent the journals to Paris that there was a significant amount of water damage to plenty of the pages, and there was a lot still missing. But it was leagues better than what Mike and he had discerned from them in the past. 

The disappearance of half of Julien Flamel’s party was a new discovery, and it's one Eddie and Mike found themselves reading over and over again.

“Look at this passage here, the Winged Vulture one,” Mike finally says, after they’d consumed four more cups of coffee each.

“Yeah, I saw that- you understand it?” Eddie asks leaning over Mike’s shoulder to look at the printed sheet. Mike rubs a hand across his mouth thoughtfully.

“This here- ‘halfway twixt the darkest gate and the land in which we tie our fate’. You know what the darkest gate is don’t you?” Mike asks, turning to look back at Eddie who covers his mouth, contemplating. 

“It’s Hell, right? My dad used that phrasing in a lot of his notes.”

“Right, and to Julien Flamel what would be the land in which we tie our fate?”

“Derry? Earth?” Eddie says shrugging, leaning back from Mike’s chair to think properly. 

“Derry yes, but I think he was trying to be specific, I think he meant their fort- which thanks to your dad, we know it’s right around where the old ironworks are built. You see all these passages with Rosette talking of the safe haven the fort created?” Mike asks, scrambling around the table for the correct pages. He lays them out in front of Eddie who scans them briefly before nodding.

“Yeah, so- so halfway between Hell and their fort… it’s underground?” Eddie asks, and Mike nods enthusiastically, before scrabbling around for a pencil. He begins scribbling notes in his unique cramped looking handwriting across a loose sheet of printer paper.

“Well- I was looking over your father's notes the other day- some of the documents you left behind at the library- Alchemists used to say the devil's number was 741-”

“So… for them Hell is 741 feet below the earth?” Eddie questions, feeling like they’re grasping at straws but Mike looks near manic as he drops his pencil to turn fully back to Eddie.

“Which makes the halfway point 370.5 feet down.”

“But how would we even get that deep? How did _they?_ I mean maybe we could go through Derry’s sewer system, the old Well house maybe-”

“The caves- the caves could go that deep,” Mike says, suddenly cutting off Eddie’s thought process.

“That- that must be it,” Eddie says looking up from Mike’s new notes, to see Mike is already standing from the table reaching for his phone.

“It makes sense doesn’t it- they’re just outside of Derry, they stretch out all under the town. Julien and his men could’ve easily gotten lost in them, it may be why Rosette never heard from them again,” Mike says and Eddie nods excitedly, it all fits- and maybe all the cryptic stuff Rosette had said about the ground speaking to her actually _meant_ something. 

“One important thing though, neither of us are exactly trained cave divers,” Eddie says with a frown. Just thinking about exploring the depths of Derry with no assistance is- a terrifying thought. Mike smiles back at Eddie and then hands his phone over, his search engine open to a modest looking website for amateur spelunking. 

“A friend of Bill’s, Bev Marsh- she runs cave tours with her husband. Those two know caves better than anyone else I can think of. They’ve been at it for years. If we’re going to go deep, they’re our best bet,” Mike says as Eddie looks over the customer testimonies of how helpful their cave guides were, how easy they made traversing under the Earth. 

“You think she’d really do it? Derry’s caves aren’t exactly- tourist friendly,” Eddie says, and there’s a pause as both of them think of the same distant memory. 

“If Bill asked, I’m sure she would,” Mike says finally, putting his phone down on the dining table. Eddie looks down as he does, crossing his arms at the sudden chill in the room.

“Will Bill ask though?” 

“I’ll talk to him, Eddie, _he’ll help_ ,” Mike says, his lips thinning into not exactly a frown, and Eddie knows he’s ventured too far into unpleasant territory. 

“No I’ll- I’ll talk to him, It’s my crazy project anyway. You weren’t there when- when Georgie disappeared,” Eddie says eyes downcast, but he can still feel Mike tensing next to him. It takes a moment for there to be a response. 

“He should be home anytime now, maybe leave that conversation for tomorrow,” Mike says quietly, and Eddie nods immediately.

“I’ll have to anyway, I’m uh- having dinner over at Rich’s place tonight,” Eddie says quickly, as he starts to pick up their scattered notes and printed sheets. 

“Oh, Eddie that’s- that’s great,” Mike says, and he’s got this knowing look in his eyes now that kind of makes Eddie want to run. But Mike’s woefully wrong. 

“Not- it’s not like that. Richie just wanted to hear more about the journals- we’re getting Chinese take out,” Eddie says, keeping himself from snapping the words as he continues to gather up all the printed pieces of the journals. Mike stops the cleanup himself, frowning at the stack of papers in his hands.

“Eddie have you-?” Mike starts but the sound of the front door cuts him off. They both go quiet as they listen to the sound of Bill clambering around in the front hall as he exits the heavy rain. They stand in tense silence until still dripping, Bill makes it to the dining room.

He immediately smiles at Mike, wiping a strand of damp hair out of his eyes. “Sorry I’m late I lost track of- Oh, Eddie, hey! You’re early.”

“Hey Bill, I’m actually just- leaving now,” Eddie says with an apologetic shrug and a tight smile. Bill looks between the two of them, the slightest trace of a frown crossing his face. 

“What were you two up to in here?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, stepping in closer to Mike.

“We were- Eddie was just-“

“Helping organize a book haul between Thrift It and the library,” Eddie blurts out, and Mike almost gives them away by sending a shocked look over Bill’s head. He saves face though as soon as Bill turns around to look at him.

“Yep, yeah- we thought it could help with community outreach,” Mike says smiling widely at Bill, but Eddie can see the panic behind his eyes. Mike has never been much for lying.

“Oh well- that’s great,” Bill says, the tense line of his shoulder relaxing as he plants a kiss on Mike’s cheek and Mike tilts slightly down to make it easier. 

“Wait, Bill- could we meet up tomorrow?” Eddie asks as Bill pulls away to head back out into the hallway and up the stairs.

“Uh- yeah, I’ll be in at 6 if you want to stop by with some coffee,” Bill shrugs with a smile, and Eddie gives him a tight nod before clutching the rest of the documents close to his chest.

“I’ll get your coat for you Eddie,” Mike says and nods towards the entryway. Bill waves a friendly goodbye as Eddie leaves behind Mike. 

They’re quiet as they shuffle down the hallway, and as Mike retrieves Eddie’s dull gray rain jacket. As Mike hands over the coat, Eddie takes a quiet and quick deep breath.

“Should we even tell Bill, Mike? I mean, we both know how he feels about the caves.”

“That wouldn’t be fair to him and you know it, Eddie,” Mike says crossing his arms over his chest with a disappointed frown.

“I just- we are so close Mike. We have an actual location, proof that my dad wasn’t-”

“Crazy. Yeah, Eddie, I understand,” Mike says with a sigh running a hand down his face warily. Eddie feels his heart sink, and slowly he begins to put his coat back on readying himself to leave.

“I can text you Bev’s info but- she’s a high commodity Ed, she won’t come easily,” Mike says just as Eddie’s hand reaches for the door handle and Eddie turns back to him with a small but sincere smile.

“I’ll try it out first. We don’t need to drag up unpleasant memories for no reason,” Eddie says with a finality that has Mike raising his hands in surrender. Eddie bids him goodbye and steps out into the pouring rain. 

He soaks his shoes and pant legs again as he rushes to his truck and thinks quietly to himself; sometimes you can’t stop things from being unpleasant. 

**~~~**

<Notes 

**June 5, 2016, 3:45 AM**

“Winged vulture leads the way with brightest light in darkest day (?) Underneath the heaven’s reign, what is lost shall be regained. Halfway twixt ~~the darkest gate~~ and the ~~land on which we tie our fate~~.”

Darkest gate = gates of hell

Land of fate = The old fort

Halfway between earth and hell? Mike/Dad say alchemists believed the number of the devil was 741- so stone is placed ½ down that (370.5 feet beneath the earth)

Beverly Marsh’s email/phone #: [ bevmarsh@gmail.com ](mailto:bevmarsh@gmail.com) / (207)555-4321

Rock On Spelunking email/phone #: [ rockonderrymaine@bluemarbel.com ](mailto:rockonderrymaine@bluemarbel.com) / (207)555-6745

-Pick up groceries before Mon.

-Drop off dry cleaning on Wed.

**~~~**

Just like the video store Richie had bought five years previous, his living situation is just as odd. Placed just above Derry’s one and only Pizza parlor is a sprawling one-bedroom apartment. 

The dining room is really just Richie's living room, with a cluttered coffee table and slightly cracked flat screen t.v. It's disgusting half of the time, and Eddie can't remember the number of times he's complained of the expired cheese smell but- it's one his favorite places to be besides Mike and Bill's. 

He reaches the apartment just as lightning streaks across the sky. Eddie parks as quickly as he can, as thunder rumbles threateningly above him. He gives a short wave to one of the regular's as he rushes into the pizza parlor, and then cuts to the side where a long dimly lit hallway leads upstairs. As soon as Eddie enters the stairwell, he can hear the sound of loud music being played from the above apartment, and he rolls his eyes as he ascends the stairs.

It takes several knocks at the door, over the sound of music, for Richie to finally open the door with a smile. Eddie merely waves, knowing full well he won't be heard over the sound, and Richie grins as he steps aside for Eddie to enter. As Eddie steps inside slipping out of his dripping coat, Richie runs to his stereo to finally turn his music off.

"You know you're going to lose your hearing by the time you're 50 right?" Eddie asks as he places his coat on a beat-up looking coat hanger. Richie waves him off with a roll of his eyes.

"This is the only way I can get any cleaning done dude, I'll just get hearing aides a few decades early, no harm no foul." 

"That's depressing and you know it," Eddie says and Richie laughs as he scoops up a feather duster from his coffee table. The apartment for once is actually- very clean. The coffee table has been cleared of its usual junk and instead sits a tastefully placed Austen paperback and several coasters. The couch has plumped throw pillows and a folded afghan. The floor even looks swept.

"What- are you having company over later?" Eddie asks looking around suspiciously, and Richie gives him a flat look before heading into the kitchen.

"I am a forty-year-old man Eddie, I can clean."

"Yeah, I know, I just wasn't sure you knew," Eddie says glibly as he sits down onto the couch. Richie reappears from the kitchen holding two plates, and two forks setting them down on the coffee table in front of Eddie.

"I thought I was supposed to be the comedian here huh? Chinese hasn't arrived yet, but you wanna pop open that binder?" Richie asks, motioning to the tightly clasped bundle of papers Eddie's been holding onto. He blinks for a moment, before quickly setting them down next to their plates in a rush.

"Right yeah, uh- It's a lot Rich, like more than Mike or I ever really thought we'd be able to get. It's- we have an actual location," Eddie says, unclipping the binder to release the wrinkled and scribbled pages he and Mike had poured over for hours. Richie moves around the table to sit down beside Eddie curiously, pulling forth a random paper to glance over. 

"That Marlowe chick really wasn't kidding, huh? And you know where the stone is? Like seriously?"

"We think it's underground, it seems like Julien Flamel used the Derry Cave system to bury it deep- like 371.5 feet deep," Eddie says with a shrug and Richie turns to him with a raised eyebrow.

"That's oddly specific."

"Mike's idea- it's the halfway point to Hell apparently," Eddie says cracking a smile, leaning back into the couch with a sigh. 

“Cheery- So what now- I mean what's your next step here?" Richie asks, throwing his arm over the back of the couch, close to Eddie’s shoulder but not touching. Not quite.

"I'm trying to get in contact with a friend of Bill's, Beverly Marsh. She runs this caving company called Rock On.” 

"So a real expedition, all you'll need is a fedora and a whip and you're Indiana Jones," Richie says with a grin as he leans over to pick up the rest of the file. He flips through it idly and Eddie watches him silently. Richie only stops when he gets to the last few passages.

"Jeez, things got real Blaire Witch there at the end- Rosette wasn't part of the rescued group was she?"

"No she uh- went missing according to some other accounts of the return voyage," Eddie says, feeling something somber settle between them. When he'd been reading Rosette's writing over with Mike he'd found himself looking at things from a more analytical view, but- now tucked close to Richie, there was something unsettling in the frantic last pages.

"Hey, what if-" Richie starts turning halfway towards Eddie when there's a loud knock at the door that startles both of them. A few papers go sliding off of Richie's lap and they both dive to grab them up. As they look at each other over the spilled documents they send sheepish grins each other's way.

"It's the Chinese delivery I think," Richie says, shoving his collected papers Eddie's way as he stands. Eddie just nods, trying to stop the shaking in his hands. Whatever ominous feeling that had been hanging in the air before was gone. Its absence makes Eddie feel hollow somehow.

Richie pays for the bulging bag of taking out with a crumpled twenty and closes the door with a sigh. Eddie shoves the rest of the journal pages into his binder and makes room for their plates and food, and Richie sends him a thankful smile.

"Kung pow chicken and white rice for you, and curry chicken and brown rice for me, bon appetit," Richie says dropping their cardboard cartons down and Eddie can't help but smile at the flair.

"I'd be almost as happy if you'd actually cooked it yourself," Eddie says, grabbing at his white rice to lay down first on the plate, watching as Richie rolls his eyes.

"You've tasted my beef stroganoff before, sometimes a man just wants to stuff his face with cheap Chinese take out," Richie quips as he jabs his fork into his own cardboard container stabbing a gooey looking piece of chicken.

"So what were you saying before? When we got interrupted?" Eddie asks after a moment of them eating, and Richie startles a bit as he remembers suddenly their dropped conversation.

"Okay yeah uh- I had this idea for your caving thing. You've been at this for like two years, and it's kind of a momentous occasion and I just thought, I could dust off some of my old film school equipment and make a little doc about you and- and your dads' research," Richie says putting down his dinner to run a nervous hand through his already messy hair. Eddie stares at him for a moment processing.

"That's- I mean I'd have to see about bringing your equipment down but that sounds- it sounds really nice Rich," Eddie says carefully putting down his own foods as well in an effort to focus all his attention on Richie. 

"Well uh- great, great- when you get a time and place figured out I'll be there," Richie says with a small smile crossing his lips as he rubs at his neck restlessly. After a moment of sheepishly smiling back and forth at one another, they both pick up their meals again and begin to eat. 

Richie finishes his meal in only a couple of moments, and Eddie watches him in feigned disgust, but Richie just grins back at him with a mouth full of food. Finally, when he’s done eating at an unsafe speed, placing his empty carton on the coffee table he rummages around in the near empty take out bag. Before Eddie can prepare, a fortune cookie is being thrown in his face, and somehow manages for it not to end up in his food. Richie is laughing way too hard.

“Little warning next time,” Eddie says, placing his unfinished meal to the side as he unwraps the most likely stale cookie from its plastic packaging.

“That wouldn’t be as fun,” Richie says scrunching up his nose as he smiles, cracking open his fortune and squinting to read the tiny font. Eddie rolls his eyes and gives a proper look to his own cracked fortune, and the paper inside. When he reads the words within it’s like a bucket of ice water has been poured down his back.

_Be on the lookout for coming events. They cast their shadows beforehand_

“ _A new romance is in your future_ , well lucky me. What’s your’s say?” Richie asks, already crumpling his fortune and tossing it onto the coffee table. Eddie looks down at his fortune again, feeling an unexpected churning in his gut. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s a dumb vague fortune, mass-produced, and meaningless. That doesn’t seem to stop the uneasiness in Eddie though.

He's about to open his mouth to answer, with a lie perhaps, when a shrill ringing breaks their silence. Another jarring interruption that has Eddie leaning back into the couch with a frown as Richie jumps up looking for his misplaced phone. When he finds it, he sends a rather obvious look of guilt in Eddie's direction before hitting the answer button.

" _Hey Jen, I wasn't expecting- not really no, Eddie's here and I- No I haven't seen it, I just cleaned the apartment today I would have- no you can't come over. Right, yeah, okay I'll check again_ ," Richie stumbles through the conversation, all one-sided on Eddie's perception, and slowly he picks up his dinner again to quickly shove the rest of his meal into his mouth. Richie turns to look at him, worried, creasing his brow as if he knows what Eddie's doing. He probably does. 

Richie _hmm's_ in agreement a few more times, before saying a curt goodbye and dropping his phone carefully back onto the coffee table.

"Sorry about that I-"

"I should get going-"

They both stare at each other as Eddie stands from his spot on the couch. Richie looks like he's about to protest, the crease in his brow growing, but then Eddie is picking up his plate and empty take-out carton and heading to the kitchen to clean up.

"The rain's pretty bad, you could- I'd hate for you to get in an accident," Richie says crossing his arms as Eddie reenters the living room, and Eddie just shrugs trying to go for nonchalance.

"No, I've got more work to do, and - I wouldn't want to interrupt another call from Jen," Eddie says, and immediately regrets how bitter it sounds coming out of his mouth. Richie almost takes a step back at the words, but his mouth takes on a tense line and Eddie quickly grabs for his coat. He's being irrational he knows, Jen and Richie broke up months ago, mutually and with very little flair but- well, there's always the but in there somewhere when it came to his and Richie's relationship.

"She just wanted to see if I had an old book of hers dude, which I don't have as far as I know," Richie says, dropping his crossed arms in irritation. Eddie's hand goes for the door handle, then he stops, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. When he turns back to Richie he's managed the most neutral expression he can.

"I've got to wake up early to meet with Bill anyway Richie, have a good night," and then before Richie can utter a word he's out the door.

**~~~**

<REPLY> Sent on Mon, June 6th, 2016 at 6:01 a.m

From: [ ejkaspr@icloud.com ](mailto:ejkaspr@icloud.com)

To: [ smarlow@science-po.fr ](mailto:smarlow@science-po.fr)

Subject: “Rose Key Journals”

Dear professor Marlowe,

Thank you so much for your continued support of my father’s research. I’ve spent so long trying my best to prove him right you almost seem like a miracle. From the translated passages you sent back a friend of mine, another local researcher and I were able to discern a possible location for Flamel's stone. We found some key clues pointing towards a cave system under our town. We’re already in the process of contacting a guide to check it out for ourselves. It’s a pipe dream at most, but it’s farther than I ever thought I’d ever get in unraveling the mysteries of Derry. We’ll be documenting this little adventure, and I’ll make sure to send back any of our findings along the way.

Thank you again for your efforts,

Sincerely,

Edward J. Kaspbrak

**~~~**

Eddie wakes to the piercing sound of his generic mobile alarm. Already he can tell he'll need at least two cups of coffee before his imminent headache can be put at bay. With a sigh he pulls himself from the bed, fumbling in the dark to turn off the biting noise. 

He'd stayed up much later than he'd intended after leaving Richie's. He'd been irritable and it was impossible for him to think of sleep. He'd emailed Marlowe again with an update needlessly, and then spent the rest of the late hour's writing and rewriting emails to convince Beverly Marsh to help. 

Her website had unequivocally stated they were booked up for the next five months, too long for him to wait after all this time of searching for answers. He was so close, close enough to touch it. It was literally just beneath his feet. At least some 400 feet below. 

His only option now was to talk to Bill, and that in and of itself was going to be a difficult task.

As he waits in line for coffee at the tiny new cafe a block or two from the library Eddie tries to compose his argument.

He doesn't get much farther than ‘ _You should help because I asked nicely’_ by the time a tired-looking barista is handing him two cappuccinos. He pushes open the doors to the cafe with his elbow and tries to settle his nerves by downing half of his coffee in one go, mostly it just makes him acutely aware of the beating of his heart.

The library opens early on Mondays, and by the time Eddie makes it to the front doors at 7, there are three cars parked in the parking lot. Eddie feigns a smile as he pushes open the bulky front doors, catching sight of Bill, back turned leaning over the checkout desk. When the bell above the doors chimes softly, Bill turns naturally at the noise, face splitting into a smile as he catches sight of Eddie and the second coffee cup clutched in his hand.

"I didn't think you'd actually come in so early," Bill says with a smile leaning an elbow on the counter, and Eddie rolls his eyes as he sets the coffee down beside him. 

“I worked on Wall Street for seven years Bill, this was sleeping in for me,” Eddie says with a raised eyebrow and Bill takes the coffee cup with a grin.

“Ah yes, somehow I always forgot you're our local big city slicker- so, what was so pressing you needed to see me so bright and early?” 

Eddie pauses a moment, playing with his own empty cup, picking at the cardboard cozy around it. “You remember that French professor Mike found, Catherine Marlowe?”

“Uh yeah- I think he said his dad was a friend of a friend of her father's right?” Bill says taking a sip of his cup, while idly checking the computer behind the counter. 

“Something like that- this is going to sound crazy Bill, but she sent back the translated journals and we’re pretty sure we know where Julian Flamel left the Philosopher's stone,” Eddie says quickly and Bill glances up at him, looking happily surprised.

“That’s- great Eddie, but why-?” Eddie cuts Bill off before he can get any further, his nerves surging as he asks the pressing question.

“We think they used the Derry cave’s Bill. It’s the only way they could’ve gotten deep enough and-”

“No,” it’s Eddie’s turn to be cut off, as Bill’s eyes harden, mouth going thin around the single word. Eddie blanches, putting down his empty to cup to lean over the checkout counter.

“I haven’t even asked you-”

“Yeah and my answers’ no, whatever it is, I don’t want my _husband-_ and for that matter, I don’t want _you_ down there. Jesus, Eddie who do you think you’re talking to?” Bill snaps, backing away from the counter, holding his coffee cup in both hands in front of himself like a defense.

“Bill, I’m not asking you to go down, I just need you to ask a favor of your friend Beverly,” Eddie tries, but that just startled a harsh laugh out of Bill. 

“Oh and that’s so much better,” Bill says, voice coated with a certain venomous dread. Eddie has to steal himself before continuing, it’s crucial that he makes his point.

“We’d be a lot safer with an actual guide don’t you think?”

“If you want her help so bad call her yourself,” Bill snaps, glaring down at his coffee avoiding Eddie’s pleading look.

“I’ve tried that- _and_ emailing her website. They don’t have any open slots till November,” Eddie says, trying to not let his desperation seep into his words. The look Bill is shooting him tells him he’s failed.

“What’s the rush? If your rock has been down there for four hundred years it’ll be down there in November,” Bill says with a tense shoulder shrug, moving away from the edge of the check-in counter to handle the overflowing book cart to his right, either that or to get away from Eddie.

“ _Bill_.”

“Eddie- those caves are dangerous, and I know if you're going Mike’s going too. _I’m not helping_ ,” Bill says, frowning as Eddie steps in front of the book cart he had been pushing out from behind the check out counter. 

“Bill I’ve been doing research for this for two years now, I’m so close to having my hands on it, _please_ ,” Eddie pleads, but steps aside at the withering look Bill responds with. 

“Even if I did believe in legends Eddie- and I don’t- why _Maine_ of all places? Why _Derry_?” Bill snaps over his shoulder, ignoring the looks of several sleepy looking library patrons.

“ _Because_ it’s Maine Bill- because it was this unknown land, what better place to hide the philosopher's stone than in the last place people would check. You remember from history lessons, it was French fur trappers who built this town,” Eddie says, moving past the counter to catch up with Bill who had headed into the nonfiction stack.

“Doesn’t that seem a little far fetched to you, Eddie? This isn’t National Treasures. Hidden relics don’t just pop up in rural Maine,” Bill snaps, reshelving a biography on George Washington hard enough to make the whole shelf shake.

“Jesus- you don’t think I’ve heard enough of that from Richie. Look, I’m not asking you to go down there, I know that’s- that’s too much, but I need Mike’s help,” Eddie whispers, lowering his voice as an older woman passes them with a dirty look. 

“I don’t know if I could forgive you, Eddie, if you brought him down there,” Bill speaks quietly, head down as he grips the shelf in front of him.

“Isn’t it his decision to make?” Eddie asks earnestly and Bill looks up long enough to shoot him a glare.

“You know what he’s like, he gets so into his projects that he can’t see left from right. He’d throw himself into danger if it meant proving a theory right.”

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie sighs leaning against the shelf to bring him closer to Bill’s level.

“I’ll text Bev, see if she can shift her schedule,” Bill finally says, and there's a resignation to his tone that almost makes Eddie pause. Almost. Instead, he envelopes his friend in a hug, trying not to shake with excitement. 

“ _Thank you,_ Bill.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to stop him, because if I can I will,” Bill mutters with a shake of his head, pulling away from the hug after a moment. Eddie just nods, sensing that anything out of his mouth could cause Bill to take it back, and he’s not chancing it. 

Eddie lets Bill get back to work, leaving the library into the misty early morning. It’s not quite raining anymore, but the fog still clings to Eddie’s skin, slightly sticky and uncomfortable. Now all he has to do is wait for Beverly Marsh. And then he can prove his father right. 

**~~~**

<MESSAGE FAILED> Sent on Sat, June 10th, 2016 at 10:05 a.m

From: [ smarlow@science-po.fr ](mailto:smarlow@science-po.fr)

To: [ ejkaspr@icloud.com ](mailto:ejkaspr@icloud.com)

Subject: “Rose Key Journals”

Mr. Kaspbrak,

If I had been aware of your plan from the beginning I would have advised against it immediately. I’ve finished translating journal 4, and what it has revealed to me that something beyond our comprehension went wrong with Julien Flamel’s journey to the states. Rosette Flamel’s last journal entries seem like the ramblings of a mad woman, but I can not help but believe her. I can not explain this with rationality or logic, but those caves are a dangerous place Mr. Kaspbrak, and I am not sure you or any person is capable of discovering what they hold.I can only hope this and the attached journal passages reach you in time. Do not go down, no archeological find is worth the loss of life, I can tell you from experience.

Sincerely, your friend,

Scarlett Marlowe; Professor of Archeology, Science Po.

** attachment.(pdf)  **

**~~~**

Eddie waits for three days, patiently doing his best to focus on the normal routine of his life. He goes to work, and maybe he stays later than he normally would, organizing shelves, and restocking misplaced items, but he needs it. He avoids Mike and Bill's place, for the most part, Bill is still icy about the whole situation, but Mike has at least texted several supportive messages. Richie is acting as if dinner the few nights previous hadn't happened. He catches Eddie outside of Thrift It when both of their stores have been closed, and talks logistics- what kind of cameras would be possible if anyone should be mic'd. Eddie isn't sure if he should be relieved Richie's not mentioning him storming out or disappointed. He tries to forget about it anyway.

And then just as Eddie is spending another sleepless night re-reading the journal pages, he gets a text at 11:00.

**Bill (7/10/2016) 11:00 p.m**

Bev and Ben can do the 12th. You have them for the day, that's it. 

Eddie stares down at it in shock. At a certain point, he'd accepted that Bill either wasn't going to help or was unable, but here it was, the next step to the puzzle and they were about to solve it.

**Eddie (7/10/2016) 11:02 p.m**

Thank you, I'll pay double her regular rates just give me her number.

 **Bill** **(7/10/2016) 11:03 p.m**

She's doing it as a favor, she won't let you pay her

Eddie bites his lip and leans back against his bed's headboard. There's still so much to plan, he'll need to buy some nicer boots, and surely he can't just wear jeans down into the caves.

**Eddie (7/10/2016) 11:05 p.m**

What time will she meet us?

**Bill (7/10/2016) 11:07 p.m**

She likes to get an early start. Mike worked her up to 7:30 instead of 6. Meeting at the northern cave entrance.

**Bill (7/10/2016) 11:07 p.m**

Bring good boots, you'll be doing some cave diving apparently.

Eddie nods, and mentally lists the supplies he'll need to collect tomorrow to prepare. As he's thinking this over he realizes he'll need to text Richie.

**Eddie (7/10/2016) 11:12 p.m**

7:30 on the 12th, bring your equipment to the north entrance of the Derry caves

Only a moment later does the reply pop up on the screen, and Eddie can't help but smile softly down at it.

**Rich (7/10/2016) 11:13 p.m**

You know I'll be there ;) 

Eddie shuts his phone after that, determined to get a better night's rest. He sleeps easier but once his eyes have shut, and his conscious mind drifts into sleep the dreams take hold. 

When he wakes to his alarm the next morning, he can't remember anything except the feeling of unease.

He notifies Cavil he'll be taking the next two days off, and he only seems minorly put off about having to call in their part-timer to cover. From there Eddie spends the day haunting the local camping/sports store picking up every bit of equipment he might need. By mid afternoon the employees at the store have had enough and Eddie takes his several bags full of purchases and escapes out into another overcast day. 

It doesn't quite look like rain, but Eddie can feel it in the air, the heaviness of the sky above him. He's about a ten-minute walk from Star Light Video and he he's deciding whether to walk over when out of the corner of his eye Eddie sees a woman. It's never been Eddie's prerogative to really notice women, _ever_ , but catching sight of her across the street in her floral day dress Eddie can't help but stare. He can't see her face, not from his vantage point, and before he can move or even speak, she's gone, turning the corner. It feels like Eddie's just seen a ghost.

His mother had had a dress just like that when he was a kid.

He drives home after that, feeling flustered and discombobulated. He tries to rationalize it's the stress of being so close to his goal. He thinks about texting Mike, see how he's feeling about tomorrow's excursion if he's- seen anything unusual. 

Eddie decides _not_ to text, and instead once he arrives back to his apartment he pulls his laptop into bed and scours Rosette's journal entries for the fiftieth time. He highlights the things that confuse him. _Rue Pernelle is the key_ is still an unplaced puzzle piece, and the first part of Julien's clue, _Winged Vulture leads the way_ is the same. 

The rain starts again at six, thunder shaking the floors and walls of Eddie's apartment.

When he was younger he'd been terrified of storms like this, shaking under his covers until it got to be too much and he'd run into sleep with his mother. Most moms would have told their kids there was nothing to be afraid of. Sonia Kaspbrak had only ever said storms were dangerous things and it was a good thing he'd stayed inside that day. 

Eddie slaps his laptop shut with a frown, curling his knees up to his chest, trying to breath slow and purposeful. It was just rain, just rain and wind, and ionized air. There was nothing to fear in a storm like this. 

The storm didn't stop that night, at least not while Eddie stared worriedly out the window, sure he was seeing shapes out on the darkened street. More floral day dresses, and heads of dark curling hair. It must have been two when he finally succumbed to sleep, back resting against the headboard so that by the time his alarm wakes him he's aching something fierce. 

It's not even light out as Eddie dresses slowly, mind foggy with unrest. He has one text from Mike asking for his coffee order, and he quickly shoots off his regular cappuccino that he's definitely going to need.

When he finally makes it outside, geared up as heavily as he can be, the street outside is still running with streams of water, the sewers below sounding like heavy river rapids of rushing water. His apartment complex is empty of any human life as far as he can see, but there is still a part of him now even as the sun rises that does not take comfort in the fact.

He makes it to the cave site a good thirty minutes later, feeling slightly more relaxed the further outside of town he traveled. Halfway there he even turns on his music, tapping his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat of a new Indie song. 

By the time Eddie gets to the meeting spot, there's already a red hummer Jeep parked in a gravel clearing. It's not exactly marked as parking, but it's far enough from anything that Eddie isn’t too worried about garnering himself a ticket. There's no sight of Mike and his blue Toyota yet, so he assumes Bev and her husband are already here and down the narrow path.

He gathers his pack and provision quickly, taking ina deep breath of clean forest air, suddenly feeling stupid for his worry and sleeplessness during the storm. At least, he'd have a funny story to talk about with his therapist. _Yeah, I thought I saw my dead mom across the street, it's hilarious right?_

Eddie slams his truck closed and follows the narrow path farther down a steep hill. He can see two pairs of boot prints in the mud in front of me, and then when the ground starts to level off he can start to hear voices. One is a higher musical sounding voice, the other deeper and soft. When the tree's finally clear enough, Eddie gets his first look and Beverly and Ben Marsh.

Bev is a tiny woman, but even below her heavy rain jacket and long hiking pants, he can tell she's practically built of muscle. As soon as he breaks the tree line, she turns to him, mouth splitting into a toothy, wakeful smile, red hair framing her face as red as the early morning sky. Benjamin Marsh, standing just beside her, decked out in his own caving gear, is a large man who shoots Eddie a smile so charming and friendly that Eddie immediately takes a liking to him.

"Eddie right? Bill's already told us so much about you," Bev says, rushing to meet Eddie halfway down the path, leaving her pack and supplies behind to shake his hand. Eddie takes it quickly, his suspicions of Bev's strength being confirmed as her hand grips his in a vice grip. Ben moves in at a slower pace, letting Bev take the lead with a soft smile.

"Yeah, it’s great to meet you both. Listen I just want to thank you guys for your time today- I know you're busy people," Eddies says letting go of Bev's hand with a shy smile, but Bev instantly waves away his thanks.

"I've known Bill since college, he actually introduced me to Ben. I'm happy to do him- and you the favor," she says with a swift and encouraging smile as she wraps one of her arms around Ben's middle.

"I don't know if you've spoken to Mike but I pulled up some reference maps for where we're hoping to head today," Eddie says, dropping his backpack to one shoulder to unzip his pack and pull out his folded map. Bev takes it with a humorous smile, checking over Eddie's scribbled notes.

"Well, Mike explained the situation to us in detail, but the route you have here is uh- well we have a safer one in mind," Bev says handing it back after a moment. 

"Oh- well, I guess I've already made it obvious we seriously need your help," Eddie says sheepishly stuffing his map back into his pack, and Bev only laughs slightly.

Eddie's about to ask to see their map and plans for the day when they all turn to listen to the sound of crunching gravel above. It doesn't take very long for Eddie to discern who it is making their way down the path.

"I'm going to be eaten alive by mosquitos by the time we're done with this- did you pack bug spray?"

"No, Richard, I brought the camera gear like you told me to- I'm more worried about the poison ivy anyway."

When they finally come crashing through the brush, each carrying hefty looking backpacks of camera equipment, Eddie is already prepared to see them. Stan Uris looks about ready to strangle Richie as he wipes his spectacles clean of early morning dew. 

"Richard Tozier?" Beverly asks confused looking between the two new men, and Richie waves his hand turning to Bev with a goofily large grin.

“Uh- hi Stan, funny seeing you here,” Eddie nods to Stan who’s standing behind Richie now, looking very put out.

“Stan, say hi to Eddie please,” Richie turns to Stan who looks up long enough to give a polite wave before going back to messing with his glasses. Eddie nods back and then grabs Richie’s arm to move them out of earshot of Bev and Ben.

“Why is he here?”

“To- help with the filming,” Richie says sheepishly, and Eddie stops himself from rolling his eyes too hard.

“Richie, the caves aren’t that big, if we’re towing six people through it’s going to take us way longer than-"

“Seven actually,” calls a voice from behind and Eddie whirls around to see Bill trudging along with Mike, a giant backpack slung over his shoulders.

"Bill," Eddie says, mouth falling open, as the two make it out into the clearing. Bill doesn't look happy exactly as he drops his bag to the ground with a thud, but Mike smiles at the gathered group.

"I brought coffee," Mike says lifting two cardboard cup holders, and the tension begins to break slowly. As Bev and Ben grab their cups from Mike, Eddie leaves Richie for the moment to talk with Bil who is crouched over his bag, seemingly double checking each of the overstuffed pockets.

"Bill-"

"I couldn't just sit at home and- I would have gone insane today thinking about you all down there," Bill says, not looking up from his pack and Eddie's mouth closes quickly. He lets Bill continue his check, before finally, Bill stands again, looking Eddie over with a critical eye.

"I think what you're doing is insane Eddie, I think that Mike believing you is crazy but- I love you both so, I hope, after this, you can just- let go, both of you, whatever the outcome," Bill says quietly and Eddie sucks in a slow breath.

"I just need to prove-" Bill's face immediately shutters off, and before Eddie can even finish he's pushing past to join the rest of the group. Eddie swallows, blinking back not tears really, just- shock. 

After the briefest of moments, Eddie shakes his head, lets out a small breath, and then turns back to the group who were introducing themselves to one another. Richie is having an animated conversation with Ben as he straps a headlamp to his head. Bev is watching them bemused as Eddie approaches and she turns to him with a smile.

"I hope you don't mind the extra bodies, I didn't know about Bill or Stan and I can-" Eddie tries to say but Bev just shakes her head to stop him.

"As long as they brought their own previsions we should be fine, it just might take us a bit longer to maneuver through the cave system," Bev says politely, and Eddie nods back in understanding. They watch as Richie finishes up with Ben, laughing about something hilarious apparently, and it's setting Eddie's teeth on edge. When Richie finally turns to them with a grin, Eddie has to school his face so he’s not actively glaring anymore.

"Alright, who wants to get set up first?"

"What exactly are you setting us up _with?_ " Eddie asks, watching to see as Stan fixes Mike and Bill with the same headlamp looking things.

"These bad boys double as cameras, thought it would be better than lugging around something bulkier the whole time. We’ll be able to get lots of great shots with these," Richie says, pulling forth two more camera headlamps. Eddie grabs for one of them, to place on himself and Richie turns to Bev to help her adjust it correctly. After a moment of struggling with his own, Eddie turns to Richie with a sigh and Richie rolls his eyes with slight grin.

"Asking for help isn't a sin Eddie," Richie says, turning to him, to fix the positioning of the camera on his forehead. Eddie's face is nearly pressed into Richie's chest, and he can smell his coconut shampoo and the sharp mint of his aftershave. After what feels like millennia of trying to forcefully control his breathing, and the blush threatening to reach farther up than his neck, Richie steps away with an affirming nod.

"Stan, you all good?' Richie turns to ask, and Stan nods with a thumbs up, adjusting his own headlamp camera.

"Alright well, my work is done, Ms. Marsh is there anything we need to do before we head down?" Richie asks, with a grin, and Bev motions Ben over so they can address the group together.

"Ben and I have explored these caves before, we have a pretty good handle on the layout, but there will be a few tricky spots we'll be coming across. The first will be the crawl spaces, there are a few and if any of you have serious problems with claustrophobia this isn't your kind of activity. I see most of you dressed warmly-" Bev's eyes cut to Richie in his t-shirt and light jean jacket before continuing, "Which is good because it can get pretty cold down there. And lastly, because of the excess rain these past few days we'll be doing some cave diving, so prepare yourselves, you will get wet," Bev finishes and the group nod along, faces serious and open.

"Alright, well Bev will be heading the group, and I'll be taking the back, that way we can make sure the group sticks together," Ben says with a smile, holding out a hand for them all to start farther down the path where Eddie can see the slope of the earth increase into the darkened forest. They make they're way quietly then, only the sounds of birdsong, and the slosh of muddy earth beneath their feet. 

And then they're there, standing in front of the open mouth of the cave, dark and wet, with crumbling bits of sedimented rock scattered on the ground. Bev doesn't pause, just switches on the light on her headlamp, and it illuminates the slimy rock within. Mike, Bill, and Stan follow slower, but Eddie can't feel his legs moving when they definitely should be. 

"I'm right behind you," Richie's voice startles Eddie out of his staring, and he turns to see the other man just to his right looking back at him intently.

"Sorry I- thanks," Eddie lets slip, glancing away from Richie’s look of sincerity, feeling his cheeks flare red. Richie doesn't start walking until Eddie makes his first move into the cave, and it’s all downhill from there. 

**~~~**

<MESSAGE FAILED> Sent on Sat, June 11th, 2016 at 10:05 a.m

From: [ smarlow@science-po.fr ](mailto:smarlow@science-po.fr)

To: [ ejkaspr@icloud.com ](mailto:ejkaspr@icloud.com)

Subject: “Rose Key Journals”

attachment.(pdf)  <OPENED>

Journal 4: pg. 5 translation (Last of the document)

(Date not written)

 _I see Louisa every day now. Her pale form creeping round the edges of our prison here, towering trees and four walls, blocking our view of freedom. Her voice catches and trails the wind and I can hear her whispers in my sleep, and in my waking hours, always. She calls to me, she and my dear Julian. They want me to go down, oh God they want me to go down. The others do not see, do not hear what I hear, but I am no mad woman._ **_I am no mad woman_ ** _. I have to go, or they will not stop, the voices and these ghostly apparitions will not cease. But Henri could not go, I could not let him. And this is where I must ask forgiveness, for as I woke from my last nightmare, of Louisa and her sodden grave, I rose from my flea ridden bed and carried out the most hateful sin. Henri’s life slipped between my shaking fingers and the tears I thought would spring to my eyes did not come. All I could feel was relief,_ **_may God forgive me_ ** _, all I could think was that he did not have to follow me below the ground._

  
 _Lousia and Julian, they will not leave us be, and if the ship were ever to arrive, they would not let us go. I must follow their instructions, find the hole the men crept down through, into the gully of this unseemly land. I must try and break whatever has been started by my husband's madness. I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must, I must-_ **(cont.)**


End file.
